A Moment of Curiosity
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: What if Voldemort kidnapped Harry instead of killing him?


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Challenges listed at the bottom.**

 **Word Count - 1704**

 **What if….** Voldemort chose to kidnap Harry instead of killing him.

* * *

 **A Moment Of Curiosity**

* * *

 _October 31st, 1981._

He climbed the stairs slowly, the body of James Potter prone and unmoving behind him. He was in no rush to end this, he had all the time in the world after all. He could hear the Mudblood in the bedroom, sobbing as she spoke to the child that had the supposed power to end his reign.

Voldemort was amused at the very thought.

He entered the nursery. His view of the child was blocked by the Mudblood's torso, but he was somewhat surprised that the child wasn't crying.

"Stand aside," he ordered, twirling his wand in his hand.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead —" she begged.

"This is my last warning -"

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything..."

Severus' plea crossed Voldemort's mind for a moment, but he didn't have time to listen to the Mudblood begging. Severus would understand; and if he didn't, he would be _made_ to understand.

"Avada Kedavra."

He watched the Mudblood fall before he turned his eyes to the child. He still wasn't crying, and he'd tilted his head to the side, a curious look on his face.

It was his eyes that caught Voldemort's attention. Unlike his mother's, which were a perfect shade of forest green, the child's eyes were a perfect match for the curse that had just left Tom's wand.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort whispered. "What is it about you that can defeat me?"

Harry blinked, leaning forward against the cot bars. His eyes were on Voldemort's wand.

He held his chubby little hand out, and with a smile on his face, said, "Ta."

The wand slipped from Voldemort's hand and flew across the room to Harry's outstretched fingers. Voldemort watched in disbelief as Harry giggled and smoke rings left the wand. He crossed the room, plucking the wand from Harry's grasp.

Pointing the wand at Harry, Voldemort stared at him.

Harry smiled up at him. "Ta," he said again, and smoke left Tom's wand once more.

Voldemort's need to destroy this threat to himself crumbled. Could he really kill this child? This child who was already showing clear magical talent?

Would it not be better to raise him at Voldemort's side? To hone the power, to _use_ the boy to further his own campaign? With the boy at his side, his victory would be assured.

Pocketing his wand, he bent slightly, his hands slipping easily beneath the boy's armpits. Harry settled against him immediately, green eyes bright as he looked over Voldemort's face.

Hearing the tell tale cracks of Apparition, Voldemort Apparated away, the boy held firmly in his arms.

…

 _November 1st, 1981_

"Our Lord has brought the boy with him. He decided not to kill him, but raise him instead," Lucius told Narcissa, disbelief colouring his tone. "He was practically gentle with the child."

"He's only a boy, a baby," Narcissa replied, rocking a sleeping Draco on her lap. "How would you feel if he wanted to kill _our_ son?"

Lucius nodded slowly. "Draco will be close to him," he demanded quietly. "If the young Potter is Our Lord's heir, it would not do for our son to not be in favour with him."

"Indeed," Narcissa agreed quietly, running her hand through her son's blonde locks. "It will be nice for Draco to have a little playmate."

...

 _May 29th, 1987_

Harry moved the bow over his violin fluidly, drawing the melodic tones from it with ease. Rabastan stood beside him, swaying slightly to the music.

When Harry was finished, Rabastan offered him a rare smile.

"You're getting better, kid."

Harry, smiling to himself at the praise, carefully put his violin in its case as Rodolphus arrived at the door to the music room.

"Master Harry? Are you ready for your charms lesson."

"Ready, Dolph," Harry confirmed, as Rabastan took away the violin case.

…

 _January 3rd, 1991_

"My Lord, the young master is ignoring me as I try to teach him," Bellatrix said, as Voldemort swept into the room, his robes swirling around him.

Harry rolled his eyes at Bellatrix. "I've been practising the cruciatus as you ordered me to -"

"You're ignoring everything I say!"

"-And you told me I should concentrate," Harry finished as though he hadn't been interrupted.

"Did you tell him to concentrate?" Voldemort asked Bellatrix, his lips stretching into a wide smile when she swallowed hard and nodded. "Then you know that when he concentrates himself fully on something, he blocks out everything else, yes?"

"My Lord -"

"Yes?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Then you called me here to reprimand _my heir_ for no reason?"

Harry sat back in his seat as Bellatrix screamed, Voldemort's cruciatus attacking her nerves. When he let it up, Bellatrix lay panting on the ground, her limbs still twitching.

"That, Harry, is how you cast the cruciatus curse. Let me see you do it now."

Turning to the muggle he'd been practising on, Harry let his power flow through him for a moment, before he intoned the spell.

Watching as the muggle twitched on the floor, Harry felt the usual adrenaline rush from the dark magic spill through him, raising the both the strength of his spell and his enjoyment.

"Well done," Voldemort murmured, when Harry released the spell. "Come. I've news of a traitor in my ranks. There's been a meeting called and I'd like you to be at my side while the matter is dealt with."

Harry smiled, pushing his wand into the holster on his arm.

"Yes, sir."

…

December 24th, 1993

Harry blew out a breath of annoyance. Draco was prattling on about the latest broomstick and Voldemort was late to pick him up for his lesson.

"Really, Harry, you need to learn to have fun! All this learning is bad for your health," Draco teased him, his laughter quieting immediately as Voldemort swept into the room.

"Irritated, Harry?" he asked, his eyes alight with amusement.

"You're late."

Voldemort nodded. "Yes. Shall we channel that anger into a spot of duelling? Its about time you showed me what you've learnt."

"Believe me, Sir, I will."

Voldemort chuckled, leading Harry from the room to the Duelling floor, two levels down.

They fought for over an hour, Voldemort teasing and taunting Harry into throwing harsher spells until the young boy was completely spent, collapsing to the floor in a sweaty mess.

Voldemort passed him a bottle of chilled water and sat beside him on the mat.

"You did well, Harry.

"You were late on purpose to annoy me," Harry gasped out, after downing half the bottle in one long gulp.

"You know me too well. You have to remember to control the anger, rather than letting the anger control you."

Harry nodded, flopping down on the mat on his back, looking up at Voldemort.

The older man ran a hand through Harry's hair. "You are… _spectacular._ With you by my side, we'll make the world _burn._ "

...

 _September 19th, 1995_

"What happened?" Harry asked, tending a nasty gash on Rabastan's arm.

"Dumbledore. Don't worry, Our Lord took care of it, but there are a few of us with injuries this night. The old bastard needs taking care of once and for all."

Harry nodded, glancing up when Voldemort walked into the room. Harry eyed him critically, looking for signs of injury.

"I'm fine, my child," Voldemort assured him as their gazes met. "But I believe the time is almost here for you to make your debut to the world. Do you feel yourself ready?"

Green eyes shone in the candlelight as Harry nodded. "Yes."

...

 _July 31st, 1996_

The battle was immense, spreading wide across a sprawling field. Harry looked around, recognising the some of the men and women wearing the silver Death Eater masks.

"Not quite the birthday party I was expecting," he murmured lightly, glancing up at Voldemort, who huffed a chuckle.

"Later, Harry. For now, we have business to attend.

"Tom."

Harry blinked as an old man he recognised from the memories Voldemort had shared with him appeared in front of them.

The battles around them seemed to slow, everyone paying attention to Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore, and Harry.

"Dumbledore," Tom greeted, feigning congeniality. "I fetched someone to meet you."

Harry removed the mask Tom had asked him to wear, his lips tilting in a cold smile when recognition and shock flashed over Dumbledore's face.

"Harry," Dumbledore gasped. "We thought you were dead! Come, my boy, come. You no longer have to stay with him, we'll protect you. We'll keep you safe."

Harry tilted his head. "Do I look as though I need protection?"

"Harry, Harry, your parents wouldn't want this for you," Dumbledore whispered, though the words carried across the now silent battleground.

"How do you know?" Harry asked quietly. "You know nothing about me. As you said yourself, you believed me to be dead. If my parents loved me as I'm sure they did, they would be proud of everything I've accomplished."

"You've been brainwashed, child. They would want you to return to the light, to be the saviour of our world as it was prophesied."

Voldemort placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You must do as you choose to do, Harry. Isn't that what I've always taught you?"

Looking up into the red eyes of the man who'd raised him, Harry nodded once. He knew, that should he choose to move to Dumbledore's side, that Voldemort would not fight him. He would not force him into a decision.

His wand slipped out of its holster into his grip at a mere thought.

"Avada Kedavra," he murmured, the light flashing in front of his eyes, dying away to show the old man dead on the floor, his face set in surprise for eternity.

"I'm done here," he said to Tom, turning away from the motionless fighters on the field. Voldemort walked alongside him, a hand on his shoulder and pride in his eyes.

The fighting started up, more ferocious than before, but Harry paid it no mind.

"You make me proud, Son."

He looked up to see Voldemort looking at him.

"You owe me a better birthday party."

* * *

 **Written for;**

 **Character Appreciation -** 6\. Victory

 **Shannon's Showcase -** Norway - Believe / Violin

 **Book Club -** Tala - teaching somebody something / safe / smiling / burn

 **Buttons -** D4. "You know me too well." / W5. Melodic

 **Lyric Alley -** 8\. And you told me I should concentrate

 **Ami's Audio -** 12\. Traitor

 **Emy's Emporium -** 1\. A powerful person or organisation

 **Showtime -** 30\. "He's only a boy."

 **Cooking Corner -** Rum - Annoyance

 **Chocolate Frog -** Wendelin the Weird - Someone who enjoys giving or receiving pain

 **Insane House Challenge -** 507\. Duelling


End file.
